What We Are Fighting For
by brabbit1029
Summary: AU-Lucio is the younger brother of Vongola Primo. But after a tragic event, his brother dies, and he, on brink of death, is given the choice to live. Four hundred years later, he wakes up from a deep sleep and is told that he is to become Vongola Decimo. Now, as Sawada Tsunayoshi, he meets many new people, friends and foes, and soon finds the very thing he is fighting for.
1. Prologue

**Decided to start another Katekyo Hitman Reborn Fanfic! This is an AU, but I'll try not to make the characters too OOC. Don't worry, I'll keep on working on the other story as well if you want me to.**

**I was inspired by two stories: Chained Away by FeastofDeath and The Clear Sky by Evangelical. They both haven't been updated recently, so I got an idea from both, so it's thanks to those two that I was able to come up with the idea with this fic.**

**Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, do not own KHR! I know it's hard to believe, but seriously! (JK) The wonderful genius who came up with this anima/manga is Akira Amano!**

* * *

Seemingly in the middle of nowhere was a vast, vibrant field, bordered by clusters of trees. Various flowers of all different colors swayed along with the tall green grass as a gentle breeze picked up. The wind carried the sweet smell emitted from the flowers into the air. The sky was crystal blue. Wisps of fluffy white clouds inched across the world's ceiling, outlined by the dazzling sun.

Standing in the middle of the field was a tall young man. He wore a clean white dress shirt that framed his thin yet lean body and dress pants. His golden hair swished from side to side on his head, his bangs sweeping back and forth over his eyes.

_"I don't want you to get hurt."_

The wind made a soft sound that could only be heard due to the lack of noise coming from the occupants of the field. The man had his back faced towards someone standing behind him.

_"That is why I'll,"_

The man arched his head to the side, a gentle smile plastered on his face.

_"definitely protect you."_

The field vanished. All that could be seen was the man. Still smiling, he stood as soft, transparent light began rolling off of his body in the form of flames. His expression was firm and comforting, yet somewhat sad.

A thin hand reached out for the man as if attempting to grab him. But for some reason, the hand couldn't reach him.

_"No..."_

A desperate voice called out as the man's body slowly began to fade as the flames grew, almost alive, like it was eating up the figure caught within its grasp.

_"Please..."_

The flames grew significantly. They engulfed the man in blinding orange light.

_"don't..."_

The hand flexed and tried to find something solid to grip within the flames to no avail. The last scene of the man was his unwavering smile before it too disappeared. The flames ruled over all, leaving nothing else in sight but a fiery inferno and a strong, sorrowful feeling that was despair.

_"Don't leave me!"_

* * *

**Yes, it's very short, I know. But this is just the prologue! Please read the next chapter for the actual start of the story!**


	2. Awakening

**Decided to start another Katekyo Hitman Reborn Fanfic! This is an AU, but I'll try not to make the characters too OOC. Don't worry, I'll keep on working on the other story as well if you want me to. **

**I was inspired by two stories: Chained Away by FeastofDeath and The Clear Sky by Evangelical. They both haven't been updated recently, so I got an idea from both, so it's thanks to those two that I was able to come up with the idea with this fic.**

**Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, do not own KHR! I know it's hard to believe, but seriously! (JK) The wonderful genius who came up with this anima/manga is Akira Amano!**

* * *

**I: Awakening**

Within a dark, quiet, room, an eerily glowing tank stood in the back, filled with a spooky bluish-green liquid. Floating within the glass container was a small, frail figure, body limp, almost lifeless. Numerous chains secured themselves around the figure, binding the prisoner's arms and legs. His nimble hands were cuffed at the wrists, and a thick collar surrounded his neck. A mask covered the person's mouth and nose which was connected to various tubes that let oxygen reach the prisoner's lungs.

Long tendrils of thick, fluffy brown hair wavered lightly in slow motion through the liquid. Brunette bangs swayed across the prisoner's closed eyes, concealing his face. The boy wore a simple white, long-sleeved dress shirt and pants. He seemed quite young, at least somewhere in his teens, a strange age to be locked up in such confinement.

Small bubbles formed within the tank and rushed upwards, making small gurgling noises as the boy continuously dozed beneath his binds.

Outside the tank, a group of shadowy figures gathered. They all wore torn black coats and black hats. All signs of living flesh was hidden beneath white bandages wrapped around their bodies.

"It is time." One of the figures spoke. His voice was deep and raspy, rough on the edges as each word was muffled from behind the bandages.

"Indeed." Another replied.

"At long last, another era has dawned upon us." A third announced.

The bandaged people turned their attention to the tank. The figure inside continued to hover in the water, and a few giant bubbles gurgled within the liquid, rising up to the top of the glass case before popping. The hand of the body twitched, just barely.

"And along with the birth of this new era, a new sky will awaken."

* * *

"You wanted to talk to me?"

In a large, decorated room, appearing to be some sort of office, a man stood at the window behind a grand wooden desk. He seemed to be of old age and wore a slick brown suit. He had a hand placed on the glass pane of the window, his other hand folded against his back.

"Yeah." The old man said carefully. He seemed to be drawn to something outside the window, lost in thought. "It's time."

"But how?" In the shadows of the room, a figure, much smaller than the old man, stood with his arms folded. His face was concealed by a tilted black fedora. "Your sons are dead, and the other is..."

"There is another candidate." The old man declared. "A fifth candidate worthy of my succession."

"A fifth candidate?" The figure in the shadows repeated, but his strangely high-pitched voice betrayed no emotion.

"I actually just heard of him myself." The man watched as a mother of some baby birds within the nest outside landed on the edge of the makeshift home. "It was quite a surprise. But there's no doubt about it."

"I see." The listener accepted the man's statement effortlessly. "So? What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to retrieve him." Said the man. The figure looked up at this ever so slightly. "Retrieve?"

"He's in," The man paused and turned a few degrees to face the person he was conversing with. "a rather difficult place, you see."

"Is that so." The listener said calmly as if he understand his elder's cryptic words.

"I want you to go get him from _that_ place," The man requested. "and train him."

"So that's how it is." The man in the shadows sighed.

"Will you do it?" The older man asked.

"Well, I can't ignore orders from you." The figure accepted the other's request. A content smile grew on the old man's face, and he turned back around to look up at the sky beyond the clear glass before him. It was a clear blue, decorated with fluffs of white clouds and the blazing sun.

"It is time for a new beginning."

* * *

It was a warm day. The sky was clear, the sun was out, and the weather was fine. Unfortunately, the temperate climate didn't match a certain dark, gray building in the middle of nowhere, especially the actual interior of it.

Vendicare prison was crawling with the Mafia law enforcers known as Vindice. Each was identical, and none could be told apart. Three Vindice strolled down a murky hallway with a small infant-like child behind them. The baby had big black eyes and a chubby face underneath a black fedora with a green lizard resting on the brim. He wore a red polo and blue tie underneath a black suit and black boots. Despite his age, he walked with an ambiance of maturity.

They walked past dozens of cells, each occupied by ragged, intimidating prisoners handcuffed and wrapped in chains, many hung on the walls by their hands. The baby, however, paid them no mind, and kept his eyes set straight as he followed the Vindice.

They finally stopped at a set of tall metal doors sealed by masses of chains and locks. Two other Vindice guarded the doors. They remained stone-still at the arrival of the other Vindice and the baby. The baby waited docilely as one of the Vindice stepped forward and began fitting various keys into the holes of the locks until the chains fell loose. With a long, retching creak, the Vindice pushed the doors open.

The doorway revealed a dark room that was mostly empty. Mist rolled across the floor, leading up to a luminous tank. Inside the tank was a palish-gray body, hooked up the the mechanics of the tank and bound by chains. The baby entered the room after the Vindice. He stood in the middle of the room and watched observantly as the Vindice began the process to release the person from the tank.

"So this is him." The infant observed. "Will it really be all right to take him out?"

"His health is not an issue." One of the Vindice's answered. The infant didn't take his eyes off the tank. He was too busy surveying the body floating inside the glass case. Plus, he harbored a deep dislike for the enigmatic Vindice.

Although they claimed that health would not be an issue, it was still something to worry about. From the looks of the body's condition, it seemed as if the person lacked hydration, nutrition, and mobility. If he hadn't known any better, the baby would've considered the person dead. He also noted that the prisoner was quite young, maybe in his early teens.

_"Is this really him?"_ The infant wondered. _"But, although it is suppressed, I can feel some sort of power."_

The Vindice finally opened the tank. More mist slithered into the room with a loud hiss, filling the space with foggy white air. The baby wasn't bothered by the growing mist and continued to stare at the prisoner.

_"Let's see what you're made of, then."_

* * *

_"What is this?"_

He heard a faint hissing sound, like air being deflated. Bubbles rapidly zoomed up around his body. Something felt different about his enclosed sanctuary. His normally numb body was beginning to feel...warmer?

The blurred noises that he occasionally heard from outside were also greater in volume that usual. For some reason, his hearing wasn't as muffled.

What was going on?

_"Something's disturbing my sleep..."_ He noted. He could sense another presence besides the ones that often guarded him. _"Could it be..."_

"Ciaossu."

The boy stiffened in surprise. The voice that had just called out to him was as clear as day. He could actually hear properly. The new clarity in sound was hurting his eardrums, but at the same time it excited him.

_"Who...are you?"_

"I'm here to pick you up." The voice told him.

_"Pick me up...?"_ Maybe he was dreaming. He had plenty of dreams, but none were so vivid. His senses were never this sharp in his imagination.

"It's finally time for you to be freed."

Free. Was it true? Was it finally time? Could he finally leave this empty, isolated place? All the dullness that had been deadening his soul lessened, and he felt much more alive. The boy's eyelids shook, then relaxed. And slowly, for the first time in what felt like forever, he opened his eyes. Much of his drowsiness still remained, so he couldn't open awaken fully, and his vision was a blur. But on the other side of the walls entrapping him, he could make out a small figure of a mix of dark clothing and coal black eyes.

_"Free?__"_ He repeated the word to himself, making sure it was true. _"Free. Finally..." _

It seemed to have taken up a lot of energy just to complete such a simple task as opening his eyes. He felt his consciousness slipping away once, the luring grasps of sleep taking him once again.

_"I can finally..."_

He gave his savior one last look before falling into darkness

_"finally..."_

And his world become pitch black once again.

* * *

Warm.

That was the first thing he noticed. Because, for once, the cold feeling of metal tied around him and cool liquid enveloping his entire body was gone, replaced by a soft, cozy warmth.

Then he realized that the chains were gone. The handcuffs around his wrists were gone. The gurgling sound roaring in his ears was gone. The sounds and feels of his typical environment were all gone.

_"It's so warm..."_ He brought his fingers inward, no longer desensitized by freezing temperatures. He gripped what seemed to be some sort of cloth that he was resting upon. He seemed to be lying on a bedding of some sort.

After taking in what he felt, he decided to try lifting his eyelids from over his eyeballs. It was difficult, like his eyes had been frozen shut. But with a little push, he was able to pry his eyes out of their secluded state. He was blinded by an immense light that made him unable to see anything else for a bit.

Once the light lessened, a scene formed around him, although long hair overshadowed his right eye, and some of his vision was blocked by strands of brown. He found himself staring at a creamy white ceiling with a small chandelier hanging in the center. Although it seemed unreal, he deduced that he was in a room. Some sort of strange device was hooked up to his arm by a needle protruding his skin. The needle was attached to a long thin tube that led to a plastic bag of clear liquid hanging on a metal pole.

Still drowsy, he blinked once, then twice.

_"Where am I?"_

"You finally awake?"

A sudden voice startled him into high alert. But he still couldn't move efficiently, so he strained to turn his head to the side. Sitting in a wooden chair besides him was a small baby, arms crossed and tiny legs folded. He tipped his fedora down in a gesture of greeting. A round yellow object(a pacifier?) hung around his neck.

That language...Japanese?

"Ciaossu."

The shrill voice and odd phrase sounded familiar to him.

Y-You're..." He had actually been able to voice his thoughts. It was strange to actually feel words form in his throat and release from his mouth, though it was hoarse and unstable. The infant was somehow able to catch the boy's soft-spoken words. The infant next to him was the one who had been talking to him when he had first awakened.

"You'll have trouble talking for a bit." The baby said. "You need time to adjust to everything. It's been a long time since you've even moved."

The boy couldn't understand the baby. From what he was saying, it sounded like he wasn't in prison anymore.

_"But...I'm not...?" _He was in a bedroom. A fancy dresser and desk were pressed against one of the four walls, and a window was implanted in wood with fine silk curtains hanging in front of them.

He was actually...outside?

The baby smirked, and as if he could read the boy's mind, talked.

"Welcome back."

Just as the baby spoke, a tentative knock sounded from outside the room. The boy's gaze turned to the brown door across from where he was lying.

"How is he?" A staggered voice deteriorated of youth asked from outside the door. "He's awake." Was the baby's reply. "Come in."

The golden knob on the door turned, and it opened to reveal an old man with gray hair. In one hand he held a long, polished scepter. His warm brown eyes filled the boy with a sense of comfort.

"Hello." The man entered the room and closed the door behind him, making little sound. "How are you?"

"Wh-" He felt as if it were difficult just to control his own voice. "Who are you?"

"I apologize." A smile formed under the tuft of gray hair above the man's lip. "It must be so overwhelming and strange to you, huh?"

He was spot on.

"I'm...free, right?" The boy asked. The old man towered over him and confirmed the boy's estimations. "Yes, dear child. You are free."

A wave of both joy and nostalgia washed over him. He managed to form a distinct smile.

"That's nice." His eyes closed as he sighed. "But...there isn't really...any point..."

The boy said no more, because he was once again unconscious.

"He needs to rest more." The old man watched the boy's chest rise up and down in steady breathing. "No matter what the Vindice say, he won't be up on his feet right away."

"Are you sure about this, Nono?" The baby asked the old man known as Timoteo, or Nono. Timoteo didn't give the baby a reply, but simply smiled and headed for the door.

"Tell me when he wakes up again. He hasn't eaten or drunken anything in ages, so we'll have to fill him up before explaining anything to him." Timoteo left as soon as he had come.

Reborn, the Arcobaleno of Sun, brought his eyes back to the boy in bed. He was awfully skinny. His skin was a pasty color, something that shouldn't be normal for children his age. His hair was a brown mess, spread across the pillow in thick waves, folded between his back and the mattress. When the boy first talked, Reborn had barely been able to make out what he was saying, most likely due to the fact that he hadn't uttered a word for so long.

_"When he wakes up, we'll need to stuff him."_ Reborn noted his slender physique, depraved of any nourishment.

"It seems this is going to be difficult." Reborn said to no one in particular. He looked up at the door where the Ninth had just exited the room.

_"I sure hope you know what you're doing, Nono."_

* * *

_"I'm sorry."_

_"I couldn't protect you."_

_"Not even once...I couldn't..."_

The boy suddenly found himself awake, but he wasn't in the mood to open his eyes. A pleasant aroma wafted through his nostrils, and he felt his mouth began to water.

_"Mmm..."_

He became aware of a light weight pressing down on his chest.

_"It smells nice..."_

"...up...ready..."

_"Who...?"_

"Wake up already!"

The voice snapped him out of his trance. The darkness shielding his sight was replaced by the chubby face of a young child staring down at him, feet planted firmly on his chest.

"Finally." The baby said impatiently. "You sure enjoy wasting time sleeping, huh."

"A...a baby?" He felt the fog in his mind clear up a bit.

"I'm not a baby." The self proclaimed 'not baby' snapped.

_"You sure do look like one, though."_

"Now that you're awake, you can eat something." The baby hopped off of his chest and landed on the nightstand to his left. Next to him was a steaming hot bowl of a creamy substance and a cup of water on a tray.

"Eat...?" He repeated, as if in awe, his eyes glued to the food hungrily.

"You remember how to, right?" The baby inquired, but he didn't wait for an answer. "Can you sit up?"

At the baby's demand, he attempted to push himself up into a sitting position. He somehow managed to prop himself up on his elbows. His bones ached, and his muscles were stiff, but after what felt like hours, he had his back leaning against the pillows placed behind him, already worn out.

"You've had enough fluids to prepare you for some actual ingestion." The baby stated.

The boy scanned the baby, unable to decide what to make of him. So he began by asking for some form of identification. "Wh-who are you?"

"Reborn." The infant introduced himself. "I'm the world's strongest hitman."

"H-hitman?" Had he heard the baby right? The tiny child standing before him was a professional hitman? As in people who excelled in the art of assassination?

"Yeah." Reborn nodded. "Don't worry. You'll get the answers to all your questions later, but for now just eat."

He wanted to ask Reborn more questions, but hunger won over his curiosity. His hand grabbed the bowl in one swift motion, as if with a mind of its own, and soon he found himself spooning mouthfuls of rice porridge into his mouth. All his questions melted away as the empty pit in his stomach began to fill up. He had never felt so famished before. The tubes connected to him back in prison had supplied him with enough of an unknown substance that kept him from starving to death, so he wasn't used to such a sensation.

"Slow down." Reborn watched as the boy wolfed down the food. "You'll upset your stomach if you eat too much at once."

The bowl was already halfway empty. The boy paced himself and reached for the glass of water and chugged it down.

The boy was too busy eating to be wary of his surroundings, especially of Reborn who's eyes never left him until he had scraped the last bit of food off of the bowl's surface.

"Feeling better?" Reborn asked as the boy set the now empty tray back on the nightstand.

"Y-yeah..." His stomach felt warm and content. Some of the color had returned to his face, but his unruly mane of hair still shielded his face, parting away at his nose. Now that he had regain some amount of energy, he was able to notice that he was somehow dressed in blue cotton pajamas. But he was still confused as to what was going on. Shyness overcame him, and he lowered his head, hands folded over his lap, and mumbled. "Th-Thank you."

"Now it's time for some explanations." Reborn said. He looked up as the door behind him clicked. "Just in time. I was getting ready to start telling him everything."

It was the old man that he had seen when he had first awoken in the room. He didn't dare speak as the man took a seat on another empty chair besides Reborn.

"You're looking better already, Lucio-kun." The old man noted whole-heartedly. And the boy felt better, but he was too overcome by suspicion.

"How do you...know my name?" Lucio asked hesitantly, fearing whether it was right to trust the strangers surrounding him. But at least had become slightly easier for him to talk, yet Reborn noted that the boy still seemed pretty reserved.

"This must be difficult." The man sympathized with the boy. "Well, for starters, my name is Timoteo. And I actually don't know much about you." Timoteo noticed the boy still seemed to lack any physical strength from his slumber. "I'm sorry, maybe we should wait a bit before-"

"No." The boy's voice was still hushed, but it was more firm. He definitely wasn't fully recovered, but, even though Timoteo couldn't make out his eyes due to his outgrown bangs, he could tell the boy wanted answers.

"Ah." Lucio's eyes widened, and he lowered his gaze again. "Um, s-sorry..."

It was then that Timoteo realized that the boy was naturally shy and soft-spoken. "No worries. None of this is your fault."

"My...fault?" Lucio perked at these words. They brought back the disturbing memories of tormenting guilt. He thought back to _that_ time, where he saw blood and flickering light, and a final smile bidding him farewell.

"No." Lucio denied grimly. Timoteo reacted to his sudden protest with raised eyebrows. Reborn also paid closer attention to Lucio.

"You're wrong...it's...my fault." Lucio grabbed fistfuls of the blanket, mouth set in a tight grimace. His small shoulders shook, as if some painful memory were resurfacing. "It's all...my fault...!"

Timoteo's eyes widened, while Reborn's were hidden away by his hat. Vongola Nono internally debated whether to continue or not. The trembling boy before him seemed so fragile. He was about to announce his concerns when the boy sat up straight, head still tucked closer to his chest.

"M-May I ask you a question?" Lucio fought to keep his voice steady. Timoteo simply bobbed his head once in a grant of permission.

It was hard for Lucio to form the words. These people seemed to know who he was; after all, they had known his name. But just to be sure, he asked the question.

"You know who I am, right?" It wasn't the main point, but he wanted to check. Timoteo nodded once again.

Lucio took a brief pause, bracing himself for the worst. To be honest, he didn't want to know any more, but he had to find out. He needed to hear the truth, no matter how harsh it may be.

"How long...has it been?" Lucio let the question out like releasing a bullet from a gun. "How long...have I been asleep? How long since I was last awake?" He didn't get an immediate answer. Both Timoteo and Reborn didn't seem to eager to speak, as if telling the other that they were the ones responsible for piling more burdens upon the young boy. The wait just made the anxious pain in him more intense.

In the end, it was Timoteo who took a deep breath before putting on an apologetic expression and speaking in a remorseful tone.

"Four hundred years."

Timoteo inclined his head, his heart hurting for the suffering teen.

"It's been four hundred years since you were last awake."


	3. Possibilities and Impossiblities

** II. Possibilities and Impossibilities**

It was perfectly normal for someone to be in shock after discovering that he had been asleep for four centuries. In fact, it would be odd for a person not to react to such information.

At first, Lucio tried convincing himself that it was just a sick joke, that this was just another one of his disturbing nightmares, and he'd soon wake up again to nothing but darkness and the feelings of chains binding him. He just couldn't accept the fact that four hundred years had passed.

Meanwhile, Reborn, who hadn't said anything for awhile, observed the boy, waiting for him to make a move. If this boy was really someone that Nono held in regard, then he couldn't just be a nobody. But at the moment, Reborn could see right away that the boy didn't fit the image of what he and Nono needed.

Lucio remained slumped forward, Timoteo's words reverberating in his mind.

_"Four hundred years."_

It was absolutely preposterous. He should've been a disheveled, soulless corpse by now, buried deep beneath a grave. And yet here he was, alive and breathing, although heavily, probably around the age of thirteen.

Timoteo was ridden with guilt. He felt terrible for adding more to the boy's troubles. He was lost in a different era, almost a different world, than his own, all alone. It was a cruel fate.

"I..."

Timoteo snapped to attention. Lucio had somewhat recovered from his shock.

"I...knew I had been asleep for a long time." Lucio admitted. "I wasn't completely unconscious all the time. I was often in a state of subconsciousness, or dreaming. But to think.." His voice cracked, overridden with emotion. "to think that it has been so long."

_"That's impossible."_ Timoteo thought incredulously. _"Vendicare's Water Prisons are said to block out all light and sound. Was it so difficult to nullify Lucio-kun's senses completely?_"

"Would you like to continue later?" Timoteo suggested. Lucio rapidly shook his head. He needed to know everything.

"Why...am I here?" Was Lucio's next question. He didn't consider himself a person who was worth all the trouble of being carefully preserved for an extended period of time. "Why was I kept alive for so long?"

"That was the Vindice's doing." Reborn reported this time. "They kept you in your subconcious state all this time."

"Vindice?" Lucio found the word to be discomforting.

"Those cloaked men in bandages." Reborn offered a brief description. "They are the law enforcers of the Mafia and the guards of Vendicare, an inescapable prison holding the most dangerous criminals of this world."

Recognition flooded Lucio. Cloaked men in bandages...the ones who had locked him up. No doubt, it was definitely them.

_"Do you wish to live?"_

A gasp escaped his lips. Maybe it was because of his slumber that his memories were hazy, but a certain flashback sharpened and echoed in his ears. He remembered the offer that had been made to him.

"Do you remember something?" Reborn read the boy's movements, from his stiffened shoulders to his ajar mouth.

"Th-those Vindice people." Lucio laid out the memory of the bandaged men. "They asked me if I...wanted to live."

"Hm." Reborn took in the information efficiently and immediately produced a question. "And what was your answer?"

"Eh?" Lucio's attention turned to the infant, then to the vague memory, searching for a reply. But it was fuzzy, as if something was still clouding his brain. "Um, I'm not sure..."

_"So it's a possibility that the Vindice took him by force."_ Reborn deduced. _"It'd be better if that was not the case._

"But, why did they need to keep me alive?" Lucio pressed on.

Reborn took over the conversation, letting Timoteo rest. "Your power."

"Power...?"

"They needed your power." Reborn explained. "Your power was rare and necessary for the future, and they couldn't let you die. So they weren't trying to save you directly."

"But I don't have any power!" Lucio proclaimed. He was weak, and he knew it. If he had any form of strength, he would have used it long ago, and he might not have been in such a situation.

"You do." Reborn deadpanned. Lucio recoiled, unable to put his faith in the hitman's words.

"You know about the mafia, right?" The cold-blooded assassin didn't give the boy time to recollect himself. Lucio managed a small nod. "But...I'm not actually part of the mafia. At least, not directly."

"Not directly?" Reborn narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

But the boy clammed shut. Clearly they had touched a topic that he wasn't willing to share. So Reborn skipped over it and moved forward.

"The Vindice kept you in their grasps, waiting for the right moment to release you back into the world." Reborn kept his impatience at a minimum. "So that you could become the next in line."

"Next in line?" Lucio felt fear creep up his throat. Was he inheriting a throne or something?

"They saved you," Reborn contemplated. "So that you could become the next boss."

"Boss?!" Lucio was hit by a sudden torrent of dread. Now he understood. Not completely, but he knew what was coming next. He has his own answer, but he actually wanted to be told from someone else's mouth.

"For a mafia family?"

"Yes."

"What family?"

Reborn knew that Lucio was already aware of what he was going to say. His tone was that of dread, not inquiry. Reborn, being the straightforward man he was, was never really one to beat around the bush. But looking at the traumatized boy before him, he couldn't help but develop the urge to lie.

Maybe Nono was wrong. Maybe the boy wasn't fit to become the next boss.

_"If only that were so."_ Reborn retaliated. Personality and appearance-wise, the boy was nothing like the typical Mafia member. But Reborn wasn't the world's strongest hitman for nothing. The boy definitely had some sort of hidden potential. And Reborn was going to bring that potential out and form him into a powerful boss. He was shape the boy into the perfect tenth boss of...

"Vongola."

He knew it. It was exactly what Lucio was expecting. It might've been because, after the string of bad luck he'd been going through recently, he had considered the worst possibility and stuck with it. The family name left a bitter taste on his tongue.

"Vongola..." Lucio repeated the name out loud.

"This man is Vongola Nono." Reborn gestured to Timoteo. "He is the Ninth boss of the Vongola family, and your descendant."

If the situation hadn't been so dire, Lucio would've found it awkward that the adult, who appeared to be in his early seventies, was his great-great grandson or something of the sort. He might've even laughed. But now wasn't the appropriate time.

"You are...?" Either way, Lucio hadn't expected that, but it shouldn't have been that surprising. If he was being recruited as the next boss, then it would only make sense that the people who had freed him were somehow related to the family he was meant to inherit one day.

"Yes." Reborn confirmed the older man's identity. "And you are to be Vongola Decimo, the Tenth."

Vongola Decimo...boss...they were such foreign words to Lucio.

"I...can't be a mafia boss." Lucio almost laughed at the thought.

"You can." Said Reborn firmly. "You can, and you will."

"I'm weak!" Lucio protested. "I can't fight, and I don't have any power! I can't do anything! You've got the wrong person!"

"I don't think we have." Says Reborn.

"But..." Lucio trailed off, unable to continue. He didn't dare look Reborn or Timoteo in the eye. Having to live in a world of danger and violence...it was something he just couldn't handle. That kind of position just wasn't meant for such a helpless person as himself.

A loud 'click' brought him back to his senses. His head whirled around to find the end of a green pistol aimed at his face. Lucio let out a cry of fear. Holding the gun in his hands was Reborn, wearing a mask of authority.

"You are a weakling." The voice was awfully harsh for that of a two year old's. "There is no doubt about that."

"Reborn!" Timoteo exclaimed. Just what did the hitman have in mind?

"You lack both physical and mental strength." Reborn listed the things he had immediately been able to detect the moment he had met the boy. "You lack resolve."

"S-See?" A spark of hope lit up within him. Maybe the baby had given up on the idea of him becoming the new Vongola boss. "I'm really not..."

"You're weak _now_." Reborn cut the boy off. "But you have the ability to change that."

To this, Lucio didn't respond. He was too busy trying to comprehend the meaning behind the baby's reprimanding.

"You may be weak, but you have some sort of potential." It was difficult to tell if he was giving Lucio a pep talk or criticizing him for all his faults. Considering the fact that they had just met only pointed his reasoning towards the latter. "You have the power to change yourself. You have the power to become stronger."

It was too unreasonable. For such a person as himself to become someone with such authority and responsibility, it wasn't him. This had to be some sort of mistake.

"I couldn't even protect the one precious person in my life..." That last smile, that light, that pain. That guilt. That feeling of helplessness, of not being able to do anything. Lucio hated it more than anything, and he didn't want to experience it again.

"It's impossible." He refused to submit to the hitman's words.

"This is the mafia." A smirk formed on Reborn's face. "Anything is possible. But just know," Reborn cocked the green pistol up higher, and Lucio scrambled back as far as possible, hitting the wall behind him. "that the mafia chews up weaklings and spits them out. Don't forget that."

After all the things Lucio had encountered so far, he thought nothing else would amaze him. At least that's what he thought until he witnessed the gun in Reborn's hand morphing into an actual lizard that climbed up his arm and rested on the empty space on his fedora. But too much things were going on, so he decided to put the lizard-turned-gun out of his mind for the moment.

"The power to...become stronger." The thought was actually tempting. He hated his present self, his present self that had been scared out of his wits by a two-year old with a pistol that could've possibly just been a toy. He hated his present self, who wasn't able to do anything when his most precious person slipped right through his fingertips, right before his eyes.

"We'll give you some time to think about it." Timoteo stood, deducing that the boy was deep in thought. Reborn also hopped down to the floor from his seat. "You don't have to rush, you're still recovering, after all. If you need anything, just call for one of the maids outside."

No sound answered him as Timoteo walked out of the room, Reborn behind him. The baby gave the conflicted Lucio one last glance before the door closed shut.

The pair made sure they had walked out of hearing range before stopping in the one of the many corridors of Vongola headquarters before stopping to discuss the conversation they had just had with the future boss of Vongola.

"How is it?" Asked Timoteo. "Did you find anything?"

"There isn't any substantial information." Reborn admitted. "I've looked through almost any source I could find."

"Then-"

"You saw it, didn't you?" Reborn intervened briefly. "That boy's appearance?"

"Yeah." It had been difficult to make out Lucio's face behind his hair, but there was no mistaking it.

"It's a striking resemblance." Timoteo agreed with Reborn's claim. "But, why? How are they related?"

"I can't say anything about that." He couldn't make a solid theory, but there were a few possibilities that came to mind. "For all we know, Lucio could actually _be_ him."

"That can't be the case." Timoteo dismissed the idea without hesitation. "One thing we are certain of is that he definitely died four hundred years ago."

"Yeah." Reborn moved on to the next prediction. "It's also possible that the two are related."

"Related?" Timoteo found the second speculation more appropriate. He had wanted to ask Lucio if he knew that person, or even had any connections with him. But throwing so much at the unsettled child would be cruel. He needed to work everything out one by one, otherwise his ailing body would collapse under all the pressure.

"Let's not jump to conclusions." Reborn cautioned. "For now, let's wait for Lucio to settle things for himself. Then we'll ask him about it."

"Good idea." Timoteo let out a huff of exhaustion. "I have some things to attend to, so I'll be taking my leave."

"Yeah." Reborn remained in the same spot as Nono took his leave. With an inscrutable expression, he shifted his gaze down the hall where Lucio's temporary room was located.

_"Asking him directly later is the best option. But...Lucio..."_

A question, something rare for Reborn, who knew many things, formed in his mind.

_"Just who are you, really?"_

* * *

_"I...I didn't want this!"_

_A small teen wailed, face in hands. His voice shook with despair, his hands and clothes splattered with blood. _

_"This isn't what I wanted!"_

_"It's all my fault..."_

_"I'm sorry..."_

"Vongola Decimo, huh?" Lucio mumbled to himself. He was lying back-down on the bed, his arm outstretched, palm parallel to the ceiling. He was unsure of what to do. His conscience couldn't find the right answer. For some reason, he couldn't make up his mind.

"There's no way I can become the Tenth." Lucio told himself firmly, but doubt still flickered within him. What was he to do? His home, the world he had once lived in, was gone, withered away by endless time that should have aged him to death.

_"It would be so much easier if I had just died back then."_ If he had died, he wouldn't be stuck having to decide such a thing. All lives come to an end eventually, so why did his life, out of the millions in the world, have to be saved? Just for the slim, unlikely chance that he'd inherit the role of the boss of Vongola?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the pile of clothes that had been left for him just in case he wanted to change. One of the maids had left it for him after leaving another set of food and a new bag of liquid that she had swapped with the old one. Apparently the fluid inside was being transferred in his body to get him nourished, but the needle wedged into his arm was discomforting, so he tried hard to ignore it.

_"Maybe some fresh air will help me."_ It wasn't a bright idea, but he wanted to have a whiff off the actual outside world after having been cooped inside a tank for so long.

He had regained a surprisingly large amount of energy since he had first awoken. With no difficulty, he sat up on the edge of the bed and reached for the clothes. The outfit consisted of a blue jacket lined with some sort of strange metal that looked similar to rows of teeth. Underneath the jacket was a white T-shirt and dark blue pants.

A twist in his heart made him cringe. Of course. After centuries, the world was bound to have changed significantly since Lucio had been a part of it. Clothes, food, lifestyles. None of it would be the same.

Lucio stripped off the pajamas and was about to reach for the shirt when his peripheral vision allowed him to spot the faint scar that spread across his stomach down to his waist. The sight of it made him sick, so he clenched his eyes shut and quickly pulled the white shirt over his head and above the mark along with the jacket.

Once he was dressed, he began attempting to stand. His legs were wobbly, and since they weren't used to handling his body weight from above, collapsed under him almost instantly, and he fell back onto the bed. He tried again, only to get the same result. Slightly embarrassed at the pathetic scene(and relieved that no one was there to witness it), he gripped the metal pole holding the bag of fluids connected to his arm and used it as support. With a heavy heave, he lifted himself onto his feet, hands gripping the pole. His legs almost slipped again, but he managed to keep himself from falling by pulling his arms with all his might.

_"To think that standing could be so hard."_ Finally, he was on his feet, though he hadn't let go of the pole. Deciding that it was important to keep the fluid running through his veins, he took the pole with him, since it had wheels on the bottom. Leaning his weight on top of the wheels, Lucio took a wobbly step forward, the cold wooden floor making his bare feet tingle. He lifted his left foot and slid it in front of him. Making sure he had a firm grounding, he took another step, then another. Soon he was hobbling towards the glass doors that led to a porch outside. One arm still grasping the stand, Lucio pushed the door open, and a torrent of sunlight knocked his sight out of his eyes for a few seconds.

But soon the light settled, and a gentle current of air brushed against his face and into the bedroom, ruffling the red curtains inside. The refreshing outdoors, after being locked up for so long, was pleasing, and for a moment Lucio actually forgot about his worries. He took a bigger step onto the porch, and sunlight danced across his skin. A smile momentarily set on his face as he arched his head back, taking in the nature of earth.

The wonderful feeling didn't last, though. He was reminded of the life-changing decision he had to make and sighed.

_"That Reborn...and Timoteo...they didn't seem like bad people, but..."_

"They must be crazy to think that I could become a Mafia boss. Let alone the Vongola's." His voice was carried away by the wind towards a certain shortie standing behind him.

_"I can't inherit his family-"_

_Click!_

"Who're you calling crazy?"

"HIEEEEE!" A squeal escaped his lips, and Lucio whirled around to find Reborn with his gun back in his hands, onyx eyes glinting. Lucio's movement had been too abrupt, causing him to lost balance. "Agh!' With a cry, Lucio fell backwards, the pole carrying his fluid bag toppling over along with him. Lucio didn't have time to think before the metal stand met with his head, and sharp pain sprouted in his scalp as the blow made impact. "OW!" Lucio cried lamely. He shoved the pole away and began rubbing the bump that had formed underneath his hair.

Reborn was amazed at how clumsy the boy was. His lack of coordination may have just been to to his long slumber, but Reborn had a gut feeling that that wasn't the case.

"R-Reborn-san?" Lucio looked up once the pain had subsided, eyeing the gun nervously. "Wh-When did you get here?"

"Just now." Reborn's gun once again took its place on his hat in the form of a lizard.

"U-Um..."

"This is Leon, my partner." Reborn stated curtly. "He can shape-shift."

"R-Right..." The introduction didn't really clear up things for Lucio, but he let it be.

"So? Have you decided?" Asked Reborn. The small shred of anticipation that Lucio had that the baby hadn't returned for that very purpose shattered, and Lucio shook his head. "I-It's too soon! I still need to think-"

"No you don't."

"Eh?"

"But first," Reborn asked. "Tell me something. If you don't truthfully answer me, I'll blow a hole through your head."

Lucio shrunk back out of fear that he was going to be shot by the infamous two-year old.

"What was your connection to Vongola Primo?"

The fear in his heart grew ten-fold. The one question he had been dreading to hear the most had just been asked, and he began to panic. Reborn was, after all, a stranger.

"Th-That's-"

He was cut off by the click of a gun. Reborn aimed Leon straight at his eyes. "Talk." He demanded in a cold, calculating voice that shouldn't be heard from an infant.

Lucio felt tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Trembling, he looked down to avoid the baby's harsh gaze. He brought his knees close to his chest, curling up into a ball.

_"I shouldn't trust this guy."_ Lucio thought. _"At least that's what I'm supposed to think. But something's telling me..."_

He saw Reborn's unwavering attention on him out of the corner of his eye.

_"Something's telling me I can trust him."_

Lucio couldn't shake off the gut feeling that the baby standing before him wasn't an enemy.

"Are you guys family?"

Reborn caught the tension gathering in the small figure curled up before him. Although he couldn't clearly see the boy's face, Reborn knew he had aroused him.

_"He isn't an enemy."_ Lucio concluded. _"But he's still a stranger."_

"I'm a stranger." Reborn began. "Everyone in this era is a stranger to you. I know it's hard to believe me, but I'm not your enemy."

Lucio really thought that at that point the infant could seriously read minds. He dared to look up to find, to his surprise, the baby smiling.

"But it doesn't have to be that way."

"Eh?" Was the seemingly cold hitman...comforting him?

_"Is he actually...nice?"_

"So tell me." Reborn said.

Lucio's mind went blank for a moment. He wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his head into them. If he had to talk to the baby, then he'd at least do it without having to directly face him.

"H-He was the person who was always there for me." Reborn had to strain to hear the soft, muffled voice coming from the brunette. "And he was my only family."

"Then, as I expected." Reborn nodded, having confirmed his top suspicion. "You two are..."

A sniff sounded from Lucio as the boy began to shake. A whimper escaped his lips as warm tears drenched his face. Silent sobs wracked through his hunched back as he spoke between cries.

"N-Ne, Reborn-san." Lucio hiccuped. "H-how am I s-supposed to inherit Vongola...?"

Reborn's lowered his fedora over his eyes. The wind seemed to pick up and blow past them, carrying the low voice of the young Decimo with it.

"How am I supposed to inherit my brother's family?"

* * *

**Leave review please! I'd like that! :)**


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